


Dear to Her Heart

by hindsight404



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hindsight404/pseuds/hindsight404
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of Dragon Age: Origins as seen through the eyes of a romanced Leliana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this almost four years ago and I think it's my first fanfiction. It's also terrible, but I thought - why not post it anyways? Beware of plot holes, non-canon descriptions/events, super sappy and barf-worthy dialogue, angst, and everything that goes into a piece of work that has been abandoned since it was finished. Especially the smut. Barely edited. Would enjoy constructive criticism.

            He was her savior: her knight in shining armor, her gentleman, her lover, her mighty warrior. He was her everything.

            Leliana sat in a chintz by the bay windows of what had once been Queen Anora’s chamber during her visit to Arl Eamon’s estate in Denerim. The room had a fantastic view of the city. However much Leliana despised the city itself and the memories that were branded within, she found comfort in the golden lights that twinkled across its expanse like a sea of stars.

            It was while she sat there in the chamber that she mused over the one man she had ever truly loved.

            Brennan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, had chosen her, and Maker; she was so unworthy of him. He had brought her out of the darkness that was her past and into the light. He had loved her and accepted her when no one else had. He had believed in her vision when all others cried heresy.

            Beside the things he had done for her, Brennan had done so much more for Ferelden. He made the hard decision to save the Arl’s son Connor – to ensure the security of Redcliffe. He had made peace between the elves of the Brecilian Forest and the werewolves, whom he had miraculously been able to spare from their violent affliction. He boldly walked into the Circle Tower and fought through the Fade to save every living being he could. He killed Branka, destroyed the Anvil of the Void and made Lord Harrowmont king of Orzammar. He purged the Alienage of Denerim of its Tevinter slave traders and brought forth Loghain’s heinous crimes.

            At the Landsmeet, he, without fear, presented his evidence and won the favor of the nobles. And when it came time to decide who should fight Loghain, he had put himself aside and let Alistair take what was rightfully his. As a result, Loghain was dead and Duncan was avenged.

            Brennan Cousland was one of the purest souls Leliana had ever stumbled upon. He was good, he was just and he was merciful when mercy was needed. He was unlike so many of the other vile, hateful and cruel men she had encountered during her dark times as a Bard. She winced at the thought of Harwen, whose hands had groped and pulled, whose hands were not nice.

            Brennan was so unlike Harwen.

            Harwen Raleigh, whose cruelty and violence knew no bounds, had raped her, tortured her friends and killed her compatriots. Brennan, whose purity and goodness rivaled that of Andraste, had shown her a gentleness she had never seen before in a man.

            She laughed to herself as she relived the moment.

            “I came to Ferelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted. I walked where the Maker led me and… He has rewarded me for my faith. I found you."

            It was what she had said to him on that night, the night she would always remember. It was after the time that Leliana had admitted to him that she was a former bard and several weeks after Leliana had spilled her guts to him and he had relished hearing how she felt about him. She hated him for making her say everything – about how she found him attractive, how she wished they could be more than friends – at that time at least, and on that very special night, it had been her turn to relish the moment.

            Brennan had been so oblivious. Subtlety, she had told him, was wasted on him. After “suggesting” a night in her tent, he failed to notice and instead claimed that he wanted to write in his journal. Leliana pounced upon the notion and revealed her true intentions. And still, he did not understand.

            “Wait, what?” he had said.

            Leliana chuckled as she recounted the rest of it.

            Finally, when he had understood, he had asked her if it was what she wanted. Of course it was what she wanted! She had asked him! For as much as it had frustrated her at the time, she now was able to capture how much he had cared about her. He was good. He was genuine. He wanted her to be certain. But she had never been more certain of anything in her life.

            He was everything she ever wanted.

            They walked together to her tent, which she had tactfully located away from the center of the camp that night, her hand tugging him along. He had maneuvered around her and lifted the tent flap for her so she could enter.

            Leliana smirked. It was another reminder of how, even so long ago it seemed, Brennan had been a gentleman.

            She walked into her tent and began to undo the lacings of her leather armor. Brennan had tied the tent flaps together so they would not be invaded upon. She was busy with her armor. By the time she had it removed and stood in nothing but her smallclothes, she turned around to face Brennan. To her utter frustration, he had not shed one single article of armor or clothing.

            She remembered his eyes going wide for a moment as he took in the sight of her with hardly anything on. With an agitated sigh, she had told him, “Brennan, you’re not supposed to be wearing anything.”

            He seemed to have snapped out of his reverie at that moment.

            “Oh, right,” he said, and fumbled for the straps and buckles of his armor. For being a rogue, he was quite pitiful when it came to matters of undressing.

            “Here,” she had told him, and went to work doing it for him.

            “Have you ever…?” he asked.

            “We’ve had this discussion before. Yes. Why? Have you?” Leliana asked him.

            She was shocked by his answer.

            “No.”

            “What…? You mean you’ve never…?”

            “No.”

            “I would have thought...that a man like _you_ , would have…had many women.”

            “I could have,” he replied. “I was close. But, no I never did.”

            “So Alistair is not the only virgin in this camp, is he?”

            “No, he’s not,” said Brennan with a chuckle. “But I don’t blush at the mention of intimacy. Poor Chantry boy.”

            She soon discovered that while Brennan had never performed the deed, he knew what he was doing. How exactly he knew, Leliana had yet to discover. Perhaps his father, or most likely his brother, had told him.

            Regardless, their adventure that night had been awkward. He was hopeless; a mess of nervous hands and long, lengthy kisses. It was awkward, but Leliana adored him for it. While she was left unsatisfied, she could not have been happier with him nor with the sudden turn her life had taken. It was after their first night that they began to deepen their relationship. They rotated between tents, and throughout the course of the next several months, Leliana had participated in the sweetest bliss she had ever known.

            With practice, Brennan came around and Leliana was thoroughly satisfied. He held her in his arms one night, kissed her forehead and said to her, “Leliana, I love you.”

            And everything changed. She fell deeper in love with him than she had with Marjolaine. Marjolaine had never done anything but use her. Brennan never had.

            She remembered how after they came out of the Brecilian Forest, she sang for him and for the rest of the camp. Morrigan had shaken her head and resumed her potion making. An icy look crossed over Sten’s face, a look of reminiscence and regret. Alistair listened rapturously as if in a trance. Callahan, Brennan’s Mabari war dog, had quieted his barking for once and lay down to listen, ears folding over his head and eyes closing.

            Brennan was quiet. After she sang, he said nothing to her, but sat down on a log and stared into the fire alongside Alistair.

            The next morning, they made their way to the Circle Tower to recruit the mages’ assistance. But what they found instead was enough to boil anyone’s blood and make Leliana’s skin crawl. Overrun by a mage who had gone mad with power, the Tower was to be purged by the Templars, but Brennan wanted to save everyone he could inside before that. Some, he was unable to save, like the Templar who believed he had married a Desire Demon. Others, like Wynne and the young mages, and Cullen the Templar, Brennan had managed to save.

            Despite how many he had been able to save, something had been bothering him when they left the Tower. Leliana noticed right away and Alistair appeared to understand that his best friend was not okay. She knew it had something to do with the time that they were in the Fade; there was no other explanation for it.

            When they made camp outside the village near Lake Callenhad, Brennan put on his best face. He made his usual rounds of checking up on everyone and making sure they had everything they needed, that they still were ready to follow him and giving gifts when he had them.

            Leliana couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when Brennan handed Morrigan a copy of her mother’s grimoire. They appeared to have an intense discussion. He asked her questions – personal questions – about her mother and Morrigan answered him, surprisingly, with non-violent answers. Leliana sat at the fire sharpening her dagger, doing her best not to listen.

            “He loves you very much,” said Alistair as he bent over the fire. Sadly, it was his night to cook. “He told me about you two…a while ago.”

            She blinked at him wordlessly.

            “I don’t like her either, Leliana,” he continued with a shake of his head, “but Brennan loves _you_. It’s just in his nature to be so…kind…to those who especially don’t deserve it.”

            Leliana looked away from Alistair; back down at the dagger in her lap. A hand went up to the pendant in the shape of a sword around her neck and she touched it gingerly, as if to remind herself that her own gift from Brennan was proof of his love for her.

            Callahan broke the dreadful silence with his barking. Zevran made some crude joke about dogs and whores and Wynne chastised him for his crude behavior, which set off more laughs from the elf.

            Finally, supper was ready and Brennan left Morrigan’s tent to join the party. They all ate, quietly for the most part. Zevran still insisted on cracking jokes and acting childish. The rest of them – those who had been trapped in the tower during that day – were silent. After supper they assigned the watches for the night. Most of them went to bed right away, except for Callahan, who pushed his nose into Leliana’s lap and demanded attention from her.

            She stroked the soft spot in between his ears and waited for Brennan to join her on the watch. They had first duty, and at midnight it was their job to wake Sten and Zevran. When he finally sat down beside her near the fire, she noticed just how tired and drained he looked.

            “Brennan,” she said gently, placing a hand on his knee, “are you alright?”

            He stared into the fire as he spoke. She withdrew her hand back to Callahan’s scruff.

            “I cannot stand the idea of losing anyone,” he said slowly. He looked up, only for a moment and his eyes met hers. “Especially you.” Then he turned back to the fire.

            She knew he would not speak anymore if she did not continue to prod him.

            “What…what do you mean?” she asked him. Her sultry, Orlesian accent felt heavier as she spoke the words.

            “When we were in the Fade… I thought I lost all of you. I was running around like a madman trying to find you all. I found Wynne first. I hardly know her, but her dream…it was awful. She was convinced that she was in her place, that she was where she needed to be. Next I found Alistair. He was also convinced. But you know Alistair,” said Brennan with a slight chuckle. “He came around quickly, after realizing that he was surrounded by demons. But the worst, Leliana, was trying to convince you that you were not where you belonged.”

            Leliana barely remembered her time in the Fade. It was all a dream, as if it had happened in some other lifetime. Callahan nudged her elbow, startling her, and then she resumed petting his head.

            “I…hardly remember…”

            “You thought you were back at the Chantry in Lothering. You thought that you were with the Revered Mother, that you had found your peace and that everything that had happened between your actual leaving and now was just a dream. You didn’t even recognize me.”

            Leliana’s stomach had descended into the depths of the abyss at that moment.

She remembered the discussion all so vividly, sitting in her chair in Denerim. She remembered what Brennan had said next.

            “I was almost certain that I would never get you out, you were so convinced. I was afraid: afraid that I might lose you.”

            Brennan inhaled heavily, glanced over at Callahan, whose head was perched in Leliana’s lap and stroked him underneath his neck. Then he looked up at Leliana, her heart quivering and her stomach tied in knots.

            “I have prided myself on being fearless. In the face of my own death, I have stood defiant. Now I have these people – my friends – who I am supposed to look after, and you, whom I love, and I cannot help myself but be afraid.”

            Leliana bit her lip. His eyebrows were creased in worry. A part of her was surprised; their fearless leader, afraid. Her lover: afraid to lose her. She had never known him to admit to fear, as he had said.

            “Do not ever doubt for one moment that I love you, Leliana.”

            She gave a little gasp. Had he heard her talking to Alistair, seen her eyeing Morrigan jealously?

            “I do not want to lose you. Despite what happens to us on the road, or with the Archdemon, or whatever troubles and quarrels come our way. I am already dying from the taint – to lose you in whatever way would destroy me.”

            Leliana let go of Callahan’s head. She reached for Brennan and kissed him. Her hands locked onto his dark brown hair and she kissed him with all the passion she could imagine giving him. They were both breathless when they stopped. Brennan pushed the cherry red strands of her hair out of her face and smiled.

            She had not seen him do so in a long time.

            “You, Brennan Cousland,” she said after she found her breath, “are the reason I live. You are from the Maker. He has given me you. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a gift from him. And… I love you, Brennan.”

            She bit her lip again. Leliana had only mentioned the word love, never outright said how she felt about him. But she did, she loved him.

            Brennan kissed her. There was no more talk about terrible things. For the rest of their watch, they talked about the members of their party, about the events that had happened the last few months and what they hoped to do in the future. She spoke of Orlais and how she still wanted to go back and he asked her questions about her past, her time with Lady Cecile.

            Callahan had already sauntered off to find a place to sleep. It was midnight, from the look of the moon high above them. Brennan stood and went off to wake Sten and Zevran. Leliana was left to herself, to ponder and wonder at just how much of an amazing person Brennan was.

            Her thoughts were cut short when Sten and Zevran approached, looking gruff and sleep-deprived.

            “Perhaps tonight you can keep your noise down,” Zevran hissed at her before sitting by the fire.

            Leliana was taken aback. “N-noise?”

            “ _Ci_ , all your moaning and groaning and-“

            “Silence, elf,” Sten quipped. “You bring dishonor to _kadan_.”

            “Is it wrong for me to point out how much noise the little lady makes? Hmm? Every single night, nearly, I fall to my bedroll thinking, ‘Ah, if only it were I who could make her scream like-“

            “That is enough,” Sten said, narrowing his stormy gray eyes at the elf.

            Zevran shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the fire.

            Leliana left the fire somewhat worried. She hadn’t thought that she and Brennan made noise amidst their lovemaking. She was wrong it appeared.

            Leliana smiled to herself now as she sat in her chair looking out across the city. She had been so naïve, so hopeless… If she had only known, she would have spared herself the humiliation of being confronted by the others. Morrigan had confronted her the next day and asked her about Brennan, then Wynne and even Sten. It seemed the whole party had known by then. She thought that they were being discreet. Leliana shook her head as she thought of how childish she had been to assume they _didn’t_ know.

            But then her thoughts shifted to the precious moments after Zevran had complained. She smirked again and called forth every single detail she could think of.

            She was flushed, angry with herself and extremely embarrassed by Zevran’s remarks. She flew straight to her tent and was about to dive into it without saying goodnight when Brennan caught her.

            “Hey, where are you going?” he asked her. His hands slipped around her waist, making her face even hotter.

            She pulled herself away from his grasp.

            “I-I…we…” she sputtered then looked over at Zevran. She lifted a finger and pointed at him. “H-he…just…I can’t believe it! He’s so…ugh!”

            Brennan laughed. He laughed! Her face was flushed with heat and her tongue was in knots. But Brennan was laughing.

            “I am sorry,” he apologized as he grabbed onto her hands, still laughing, “but you are so adorable when you are flustered.”

            “D-do I make noise when we…?”

            “Of course you do. Everyone does, right?”

            Leliana shook her head aggressively. “Not according to that-that bastard! H-he…!”

            “Don’t worry about Zevran. He is only jealous.”

            “J-jealous? Why in Andraste’s name would he be jealous?”

            “Because I am the one taking you to my tent and not him.”

            Brennan leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. Leliana’s heart shuddered in her chest when he did. It was so gentle and beautiful.

            “Come with me,” he said, grabbing onto her hand and leading her away from camp.

            “W-where are we going?” she asked him.

            He looked over his shoulder at her with mirth in his eyes. “Where no one can hear us.”

            The next thing Leliana had known, her back was shoved against a cool outcropping of rock far away from the camp and Brennan’s lips were furiously attacking hers. He began to remove her armor with practiced agility. This time, it was Leliana’s turn to struggle with undressing. Hands everywhere. Lips locked. Breathing fast. Naked flesh. Moonlight upon her skin. Brennan held her up against him, buried within her, Leliana’s legs wrapped around his hips. He moved in and out of her like the tides of the ocean. She scrambled to find a hold anywhere: her fingers buried into his hair and dug into the rock he pressed her against.

            She sighed and gasped with every thrust. Her cries were drowned out by the nothingness that surrounded them, muffled at times when she buried her face into his strong shoulder. Finally, she came, and rode the waves of her ecstasy until he did too. They fell to the ground, spent, but hungry for more.

            Leliana’s smile now encompassed her entire face. She stood from her chair and began to walk about the chamber.

            She shivered when she thought about Brennan and how he made her feel. A burning desire grew in the pit of her stomach, but she curbed it by returning to her thoughts. However, what came up next was nothing like the beautiful moments that she had previously thought about.


	2. In Peace, Vigilance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this almost four years ago and I think it's my first fanfiction. It's also terrible, but I thought - why not post it anyways? Beware of plot holes, non-canon descriptions/events, super sappy and barf-worthy dialogue, angst, and everything that goes into a piece of work that has been abandoned since it was finished. Especially the smut. Barely edited. Would enjoy constructive criticism.

            After the Tower, the party traveled to Orzammar, where they found Oghren. Brennan supported Lord Harrowmont, and as such, Brennan fought for him in the Proving. They went on his quest to find Branka, killed her when they discovered how sick and disturbed she had become, and then destroyed the Anvil of the Void. They were successful, and because they were, they earned the aid of the dwarves in the coming war.

            They then went to Redcliffe to call upon Eamon and then finally to Denerim, where Eamon set them off on an investigation into Loghain’s atrocities.

             It turned out that Loghain was in over his head. He had locked his own daughter away in Arl Howe’s dungeons. Even worse, Arl Howe, whom Leliana knew Brennan despised for what he had done to his family, had tortured and killed people.

            Leliana was surprised though when Brennan offered the hand of mercy to his family’s murderer. But Howe spat on him and cursed his family. Then he died and it was over.

Everyone was even more surprised when they came across an Orlesian Grey Warden in the Arl’s dungeons.

            At first, he spoke in the native tongue of Orlais. Leliana had jumped at the mere hearing of his words. She responded to him and told him that they were there to help, that the man who led them was a Grey Warden.

            The man relaxed after that and spoke in the common language.

            He told them how Arl Howe had taken him prisoner and tortured him. He said his name was Riordan and that he would find them later.

They found Anora, Loghain’s daughter, there as well and freed her. Ser Cauthrien, Loghain’s second, was there to stop them, but she and her men were no match for the party. They made it out of the Howe manor and back to Arl Eamon’s.

            Leliana was not present for the conversation, but by the glares that Alistair dealt to Brennan and Anora, she knew that Brennan had been forced to make hard decisions.

            That night, they found solitude together in the Arl’s study, not too far from where Leliana presently sat.

            “Alistair didn’t look happy today after you were done talking with him,” she had said to Brennan.

            “No, but he will be fine. He is just…acting like a child right now.”

            “What happened?”

            “I told him that I thought he would make a good king, and I persuaded him and Anora to marry once Loghain has been removed from the regency.”

            “So…Alistair will be king?”

            Brennan nodded. “Yes. He will.”

            “I know that it’s not what he wants.”

            “It is not about what Alistair wants,” said Brennan softly, “it is about what Ferelden needs. Ferelden needs its true king returned to its throne. It needs Maric’s son. But Alistair is not an experienced ruler. Anora is. A union between the two will help to rebuild what the Blight has destroyed.”

            “Doesn’t sound like he sees it that way.”

            “Of course not. This is Alistair we are talking about. He cannot even remember which way his armor goes on.”

            “But you two are still friends, yes?”

            Brennan nodded again. His green eyes flashed in the light of the fireplace. “Yes. Alistair will be fine.”

Leliana and Brennan went separate ways after that. An impending doom seemed to hang over their heads like an angry black cloud. Leliana could not help herself but feel the stirrings of despair.

            Brennan must have noticed, because the next day he cornered her while they were in the elven Alienage poking around and asking questions. He took her into a back alley where there was nobody else.

            “Leliana?” he asked, one hand cupping her jaw as he made her look into his eyes. “Is everything alright?”

            She nodded. A swell of tears threatened to pour forth, but she pressed down the urge. Brennan was unconvinced. Thank the Maker; he knew her better than she did.

            “You are not alright,” he said. “Do not lie to me.”

            “I am…afraid, Brennan. As you were before. We don’t know what will happen. The Landsmeet…Loghain…Anora… But I can’t get it out of my head. I-I don’t want to lose you. I feel like…something terrible is going to happen.”

            “Leliana, look at all that we have done! We have brought together all the races, united with one cause. This Blight will end. This feeling that you have; nothing will happen. We will be victorious, and you and I will be together.”

            He kissed her forehead.

            “Come on,” he said. “Let us find the others and get back to work. I am certain that they are looking for us already.”

            The Landsmeet came.

            Brennan and Eamon presented their evidence. They took control of the Landsmeet and outnumbered Loghain’s supporters. Loghain, in a fit of rage, demanded a final match, a test of strength and cunning. Leliana was stunned when Brennan did not offer to do it himself.

            “Alistair will be my champion,” he said as he stepped behind his angry-looking friend.

            Alistair stepped forward. Loghain and Alistair circled each other for a moment or two, and then struck out at the same time. Loghain, old and not the young man he used to be, finally kneeled to Alistair.

            “You _are_ Maric’s son,” Loghain puffed in between sharp breaths. “I yield.”

            There was an exchange of words and all Leliana heard next was, “This is for Duncan,” and the sickening sound of Loghain’s head toppling to the floor.

            It was decided then and there: Alistair and Anora would marry, Alistair and Brennan would lead the Ferelden forces to battle and the Blight would be over.

            Leliana rejoiced. So did everyone. Back at Arl Eamon’s estate, the entire party was gathered, talking and celebrating, when Alistair entered and demanded to speak to Brennan.

            “You made me king. After all this is over with, they’re actually going to put me on the throne. I’m still… I’m going to be king.”

            “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” said Brennan.

            “Oh.” It looked to Leliana as if Alistair had been knocked over the head, as if he had awoken from a dream. Or finally come to his senses. “Thanks. That should be interesting, shouldn’t it? I suppose there are worse things that could happen to me other than becoming king and being hitched up to a beautiful woman.”

            Leliana rolled her eyes.

            “Anora probably thinks she’ll just be able to push me off to the side,” he continued, “but I’m not that person anymore. She won’t be able to walk all over me. This was always a possibility. I always feared it, but maybe there’s nothing to fear. I might actually make a good king, you never know.

            “I’ll tell you what though. I’ll make a far better king if I have the right people by my side to help me once I’m on the throne. People like you.”

            “You want me to help you?” Brennan asked, crossing his arms. It seemed as if he almost didn’t believe Alistair would need his help, like he believed in his best friend far too much.

            “Don’t get me wrong,” Alistair explained. “I’m sure I can do well enough if I try. But I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you, so in a way you owe me. What do you say?”

            Brennan shrugged. Leliana detected a little bit of laughter in his voice as he said, “Oh, I think I could be convinced.”

            Alistair nodded. “That’s good enough for me.”

            He then went straight to business.

            “Arl Eamon has left for Redcliffe. He says the army has gathered there and is almost ready to march. As soon as we are ready, we should head to Redcliffe ourselves. The Blight awaits right?”

            The ominous chill that had once plagued Leliana came back to haunt her and the rest of the party. Their victory over Loghain was short-lived.

            Brennan took Leliana to his chamber and they made love for a long time. They were resting and he played with her hair, combing his fingers through the short, boyish locks, and held her close to him.

            “Has your hair always been this short?” he asked her.

            Leliana sighed and kissed his chest before answering. “No. When I was in Orlais, it was much longer, but I usually kept it up and out of my face. I cut it when I joined the cloister. It was…a personal reminder that I had given up my former life.”

            Brennan continued to twist the fire red strands in between his fingers. “I like your hair. Have I ever told you that before?”

            “No,” she had replied. “But it is nice to hear. I am glad that you like my hair.”

            He laughed a little and said, “I also like a lot more than your hair, Leliana…”

            She rose up by placing both of her hands against his chest. He let go of her hair. A smirk lit her face as she had him pinned down.

            “But these are things you would never admit to me until now? You brute.”

            His hands rested against her muscular forearms and then his fingers traced down to her hands. Leliana winced, trying to hold back her ticklish giggling.

            “Shall I compile a list for you of features I deem highly…admirable?”

            “There is no need for a list, my love,” she whispered in her sultry voice, “you can show me instead.”

            Brennan’s eyes glittered with promise. “Now that…I can do.”

            Leliana smiled to herself. She remembered with clarity every area he had dubbed admirable. It tickled her insides, the memories, and brought her cheeks to a rosy blush.


	3. In War, Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this almost four years ago and I think it's my first fanfiction. It's also terrible, but I thought - why not post it anyways? Beware of plot holes, non-canon descriptions/events, super sappy and barf-worthy dialogue, angst, and everything that goes into a piece of work that has been abandoned since it was finished. Especially the smut. Barely edited. Would enjoy constructive criticism.

            The party marched from Denerim to Redcliffe at the quickest pace they could go. When they arrived, a man screaming about darkspawn greeted the party at the village, rather than Teagan, whom they expected. Darkspawn had infiltrated the castle.

            “Oh joy,” said Brennan as he dismounted and brandished his swords. “Just the welcoming party I was looking for.”

            They battled through hurlocks, emissaries, Blight wolves and ogres before they got to the castle using the old gate from the village. At the castle, the Redcliffe soldiers screamed and put up a valiant fight though they were outnumbered. Brennan’s appearance seemed to boost their morale and soon the ground was littered with the bodies of Darkspawn.

            Leliana was about to put her bow away when she heard a roar coming from the bridge. She looked up and her heart slammed in her chest.

            “Brennan!” she screamed and he and Alistair came running.

            An Alpha Ogre charged towards the little party. They fought, Brennan bellowing orders to the soldiers, to Morrigan, to Alistair and even Leliana.

            “Take it down! Take it down!”

            And finally, Alistair laid the last blow and it was over. Leliana wiped the thick black ichor from her face and looked to Brennan. He was not happy. A soldier ran forward and quickly told him that Riordan, the Orlesian Grey Warden, was at the castle and that he had news.

            Riordan? Leliana remembered thinking. But he was free; he could go back to Orlais, so why would he be at Redcliffe? What news could possibly be so urgent that he would risk his life to deliver it?

            The soldier led them inside, where Leliana spotted Bann Teagan, Arl Eamon, his second, and the Grey Warden talking by the fire. Apparently, the Darkspawn had not infiltrated the castle. Or they were already dead.

            “It’s a relief to see you unharmed,” said the Grey Warden as he approached, crossing his arms over his chest in the Warden’s salute. “And you as well Alistair…or should I say your Majesty?”

            Alistair bumbled for words. “Err…no. No I wouldn’t say that. Not yet, anyway.”

            The Grey Warden didn’t so much as smirk at Alistair’s comment. He went straight to business. “The Darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number, I’m afraid. It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction…but that is not true,” he said.

            “Riordan tells us that the bulk of the horde is, in fact, moving toward Denerim,” Arl Eamon quipped. “They are perhaps two days away from the capital.”

            “What?” Alistair didn’t seem to believe either of them. “Are we sure about this? I mean…if that’s true…”

            “I ventured close enough to listen in, as it were. I am quite certain,” the Orlesian finished.

            Listening in? thought Leliana. How preposterous! Surely the Darkspawn would have killed him if he got too close. How had he been able to listen in?

            Brennan seemed puzzled as he spoke, “Why did we think they were headed here?”

            The older Warden explained that there were many Darkspawn and most of them had been seen in the west.

            “Not to mention that we’ve been too busy killing each other to pay attention to some silly old Darkspawn horde,” Alistair snipped spitefully.

            Leliana could tell that Loghain’s betrayal of the Grey Wardens still stuck with the future king. He was not one to let go so easily.

            Again, the Orlesian did not seem to pay attention to Alistair’s comment. He turned towards the fire and said darkly, “There is, I’m afraid one piece of news that is of even greater concern… The Archdemon has shown itself. The dragon is at the head of the horde.”

            “Maker preserve us,” muttered Bann Teagan.

            Brennan remained calm amidst the news. Alistair seemed panicky.

            “But we can’t reach Denerim within two days, can we? It’s too far.”

            It all seemed so hopeless to Leliana. She didn’t understand how Brennan could stand there coolly like nothing was happening, when they were right on track to lose the capital to a horde of demonic creatures. Arl Eamon spoke again, but Leliana wasn’t paying attention. She was looking at her lover, watching his face for any sign of distress.

            “The Archdemon is what is important,” he said, staring off into the fireplace.

            Leliana thought she saw in his eyes the smallest flicker of doubt. No one would have seen it. No one but the woman who loved him and knew him better than anyone else in the room.

            “And only the Grey Wardens can defeat the Archdemon. That is why we must go.”

            Leliana’s heart, which thundered so violently when the ogre attacked, now fell into her stomach. They would still have to fight. They would still have to risk life and limb to save Ferelden. The task, it seemed, was never over.

            “Then we march, and hope the army we’ve collected here gives us the chance we need… Arl Eamon, how long before the army can set out?” asked Alistair. To Leliana, it suddenly seemed like he was ten feet taller, much more a man than a boy, much more a king than a whelp.

            “By daybreak,” the Arl replied.

            “Then let’s get them ready. I won’t let all those people die without giving them a chance,” he finished. Brennan nodded, but he seemed preoccupied again.

            “And just how are we supposed to defeat this Archdemon?”

            “I was wondering that myself,” Alistair mumbled.

            Both the men looked to the old Warden.

            “Then…you don’t know?” He seemed puzzled, like they were supposed to have some sort of privileged information. Then he said, “Of course not. You are both new recruits, Duncan wouldn’t have expected…”

            The Arl pushed the matter aside and gave orders to Bann Teagan. “I will give the orders at once, and will notify you the moment we are ready to march.”

            “That would be appreciated,” said Alistair.

            The Orlesian turned to Brennan and told him, “Perhaps you and Alistair should meet me before you retire for the evening. There are…things we need to speak of.”

            Leliana noted that the man couldn’t have sounded more foreboding.

            “I will have someone show you to your rooms. I suggest you all get some rest, while you can. We will need it,” the Arl said, finishing the discussion.

            Servants rushed forward from the back of the room and whisked the other party members off towards their rooms. A servant approached Leliana, but she did not want to leave Brennan’s side. He noticed.

            “You go along and find your room. I will come and see you before we go to bed,” he told her. Then he bent down and kissed her.

            A feeling began to gnaw on her insides when he did. His kiss was filled with unspoken fears and doubts; it was hard, it was to the point and it was quick. Brennan attempted a feeble smile. Leliana walked with the servant to her chamber just off the main room where they held conference with the Arl and the Warden. She thanked the servant and wandered around a little, then began to shed her weapons and clean them thoroughly.

            Once that was done, she walked back outside and saw all the other party members restlessly talking together. She joined them but did not engage in the gossip. Callahan snuggled up to her leg and she patted his head.

            Leliana remembered the doubts that crept into her mind. If Brennan had a flickering of doubt, how could she not? If Brennan, savior and champion of Ferelden, was afraid, then how could she not be too?

            Brennan could boast of immeasurable confidence. Outwardly, to the world he would appear so, but to Leliana, she knew his doubts and fears surged like a battle within.

            It had been a while now. She looked towards the door leading up the stairs to the chamber suites. What could the Grey Warden possibly have to share that was so urgent?

            Five seconds later, Leliana witnessed Alistair storm out of the room and rush down the stairs. Curious, she quietly followed him, unknown to the others who were so enthralled by their ponderings and tales.

            Alistair seemed so absorbed in his thoughts; not that he would have heard or noticed the stealthy former Bard following him. He half-ran to the doors and flung them open. He walked into the courtyard and Leliana slipped through the closing doors.

            It was raining. Lightning cracked the sky in half and thunder rumbled like drums.

            She slunk along the inner courtyard underneath a balcony where she would be dry. From a distance, she observed her lover’s best friend. What was he so frustrated about? He rubbed his hands over his face in what seemed to be an emotion like preoccupation.

            He muttered something inaudible to her, shuffled his feet in the mud and then walked towards the door. A flash of lightning struck the sky and illuminated for one small moment Morrigan’s pale, scantily clad figure. Leliana couldn’t help but think that Morrigan had to be freezing, but she seemed calm, arms crossed over the midsection. Alistair saw her.

            “Oh. There are you,” he said in a tone filled with irritation.

            “’Tis I,” she said calmly. “You’d be best to keep your guard up, while enjoying yourself.”

            “We can go to Denerim, but somehow I expect that they’re not going to let us just walk around. Only a suspicion, of course,” he snorted.

            “Most your age would spend much of their time preoccupied wondering how they might perish. Yet you…already know.”

            The taint, thought Leliana. She knew it would kill every single Grey Warden, slowly, painfully, until they had no choice but to go to the Deep Roads and seek a death worthy of honor.

            Alistair looked away from Morrigan as if disgusted. “Oh, that’s funny. Such cruelty from such a beautiful woman. If you hear sobbing later, that’s me crying myself to sleep.”

            Morrigan stepped forward a few steps and uncrossed her arms before saying, “Consider the possibility that Riordan may _not_ be there to make the final blow as he plans. What then? Do you run away?”

            Leliana’s head began to spin. Riordan? He had promised to take the final blow? But what did it matter if he did or not? Anger boiled in Leliana. Brennan should be the one to do it. _He_ was the one who had done so much for Ferelden already. Why was this Grey Warden taking his glory from him? Because he was older?

            “We don’t know _what_ will happen tomorrow,” Alistair replied. “Riordan could end it or both of us could die before we even get close.”

            Now there were knots in Leliana’s stomach. Of course there was always the possibility of Alistair or Brennan dying – _any_ of them dying. But what did it matter if they did?

            “You do still intend to kill your target, do you not? Is your reputation not on the line?”

            Alistair huffed. “Look, I’m going to go get some sleep now. We are _done_ talking about this,” he said as he moved towards the door.

            Leliana glanced back at Morrigan. Her golden eyes came alive with something that looked like an epiphany.

            “You… _care_ …about him. As if he were the brother you never had…”

            Alistair nodded.

            Morrigan’s face was filled with an expression of confoundedness. Leliana kept herself from snorting. Of course Alistair and Brennan were best friends. Of course they cared about each other. They were, as Morrigan herself had pointed out, like brothers.

            “Big surprise! Do you care what anyone thinks? Not unless they can do something for you I’m sure.” His voice rose angrily.

            Morrigan was silent.

            “No. I can see that. You don’t care what anyone thinks.”

            The gold-eyed witch moved closer, her face now displaying a pained expression.

            “I’d be happy if I thought you cared about anyone other than yourself. With _you_ , who needs Darkspawn?!”

            “I…I care!” Morgan protested, her voice strained, as if the words were painful to admit.

            “Oh, I get it. This is the part where we’re shocked to discover how you’ve never had a friend your entire life.”

            There was a cold silence between them. All Leliana could hear was the sound of raindrops falling to the tiles of the castle, gently pattering on the soft mud.

           “Only one.”

            _Brennan_.

            His name hung ominously in the space between Alistair and Morrigan. Leliana’s heart kicked in her chest.

            Brennan was kind to everyone in the party, but Morrigan had thought of him as her friend? What if she had ever thought of him as more than a friend? Jealousy, cold as ice, trickled down Leliana’s spine. There was no way Brennan would hurt her, but Morrigan…would hurt them all if she hoped to gain something from it.

            Alistair moved toward the door again.

            “Alistair!” Morrigan called desperately. She paused and then said, “If I could do something _terrible_ to aid, must I?”

            Alistair’s hand rested on the door handle. Without looking at her, he spoke. “I suppose we could use whatever help we can get.” Then he pulled the door open.

            Before disappearing within, Morrigan called his name again, but he ignored her and the doors slammed shut.

            Morrigan whispered to herself. “Weakness.” Then she fell to her knees, splattering mud around her and put her face in her hands. “You will regret this and so will I!” She mumbled again, but Leliana caught only the end of what she had said. “…That is how it must be…”

            Morrigan stood to her feet and straightened. Confusion, anger and panic spread through Leliana’s chest. Her armor felt like a snake coiling about her – constricting and squeezing the life out of her. She was about to slink away to find Brennan and demand answers when she heard her name and stopped in her tracks.

            “Leliana.” The words drifted softly and sweetly to her ears.

            How could Morrigan know that she was there?

            “Please, Leliana, I wish to speak with you…” Morrigan could not have said it in a more ominous way.

            Leliana emerged from her hiding place. The rain had turned to a gentle drizzle that tickled her face as she walked towards the witch. She came into Morrigan’s view and crossed her arms.

            “What do _you_ want?” Leliana snapped spitefully.

            “Have you spoken to Brennan?”

            “Not since he met with the Orlesian.”

            “He has not told you then?”

            “No…” Leliana thought she would suffocate from all the emotions brewing within her. “Told me what, Morrigan? What do you want?”

            “I want,” the witch began, “nothing else but to help.”

            Leliana rolled her eyes but Morrigan ignored her.

            “But it comes with a price.”

            “Of course it does,” Leliana snipped.

            “Please, let me speak. ‘Twill not take much of your time.” She sighed heavily. What burden could _she_ possibly have to bear, Leliana wondered?

            “When Grey Wardens fight the Archdemon, it does not come without a sacrifice. The taint within their blood draws the spirit of the Archdemon to them, but their bodies are already host to their souls. Two souls cannot reside within one body. Therefore, they are both killed. If the Archdemon is killed by anyone lesser, its spirit will roam the world until it finds another Darkspawn to possess. This is why the Grey Wardens are needed during the Blight. ‘Tis a small price to pay for the safety of the world.

            “There is however, a way out. Old magic… Performed on this night; that will prevent any Wardens’ soul from being destroyed by the Archdemon. It…requires that a Grey Warden lie with me.”

            “What?!” Leliana hissed.

            She had listened to Morrigan and not interrupted, but now, there was no keeping her tongue still. Morrigan wanted to do what?!

            “When the Archdemon is killed, rather than its spirit seeking that of a Warden, it will find the child within me. In time I will give birth and the child will have the soul of an old god.”

            “And…y-you are you going to lie with one of them?!”

            “If they want to live, then yes.”

            “W-what you are suggesting…it’s crazy! There can’t…possibly be such a ritual in existence!” Leliana protested.

            “It is very old and few people know of its applications.”

            Leliana ran her hands over her face. _It’s all a dream_ , she remembered thinking. _I will wake up soon. It’s just a dream._

            But it wasn’t.

            A storm raged within, but she found her composure and asked Morrigan, “Why are you telling me this?”

            “Because…Brennan will…most likely be…”

            She didn’t have to finish the sentence.

            “Why can’t Alistair do it?!” Leliana screamed at her. “He is just as much a Warden as Brennan. H-he has less to lose! He does not… _love_ …as Brennan does!”

            Morrigan’s eyebrows furrowed and she stared into the mud at her feet.

            “I don’t want it to be Brennan, Leliana, but Alistair… He hates me, and with him becoming king, he will fear for the safety of his kingdom; if the people knew that he had a bastard child with the soul of an old god… You cannot count on him to be the one to do it.”

            “Permitted that either of them agrees to it! Brennan would never!”

            “Are you so sure?” asked the witch. “He loves you, like I never thought possible. He will want to live…for Ferelden…for Alistair…for you.”

            “B-but…” Leliana’s throat tightened. She could come up with no more protests.

            “I wanted you to know,” said Morrigan. “I promise…I am not doing this because I want to steal your beloved from you… I too would like to see them live.”

            Morrigan began to walk toward the door of the castle.

            “I must say something to them. They need to know they have options. Whether or not they go through with it is up to them. I only wanted to tell you, because…it seemed like the right thing to do. Like something Brennan would have done.”

            Then Morrigan walked into the castle.

            Leliana thought she would die. She had to move. She had to leave. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She couldn’t. It would kill her. Tears finally flowing down her cheeks, she ran inside the castle and to her chamber, passing Zevran and Oghren as they sat outside their rooms playing cards.

            Callahan was curled up on her bed. When she entered, he raised his head and looked at her. He must have sensed her distress because he whimpered when she sat down against her door. Leliana angrily wiped her tears. She felt like she was suffocating... The mabari whined, stirring her from her sorrow. She made it to her feet and stumbled towards the four-poster bed. She threw herself down across the comforter. Brennan's hound pawed at Leliana’s hands and whimpered again.

            Hopefully he would talk to her… Hopefully Brennan would come and explain himself… Perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he would come to her chamber, take her back to his room and make passionate love to her, no thoughts of Morrigan, no thoughts of rituals, the Archdemon or the doom that lingered above them all like a giant sign in the heavens, or like the vision that had led her to him…

            There was a knock on her door. It sounded like a battering ram against the gates of the Black City. Weakly, Leliana sat up, crossed her legs and then draped a hand across Callahan’s back.

            “Come in,” she croaked, and the door slid open.


	4. In Death, Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this almost four years ago and I think it's my first fanfiction. It's also terrible, but I thought - why not post it anyways? Beware of plot holes, non-canon descriptions/events, super sappy and barf-worthy dialogue, angst, and everything that goes into a piece of work that has been abandoned since it was finished. Especially the smut. Barely edited. Would enjoy constructive criticism.

            Relief rushed through her when she saw that it was Brennan, but the somber look on his face gave him away, and the euphoric momentary feeling she had from seeing him was washed away by the twinge of the betrayal that she knew was coming.

            His eyes looked darker, the lines of his face more prominent and his shoulders sagged slightly in the way of defeat. He was at his lowest; she knew, she saw.

            “Leliana…”

            Her stomach churned. Brennan looked into her eyes and spoke.

            “Morrigan…told you everything?”

            She nodded. More tears swelled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

            “I…I have to do this, Leliana. I do not want to, but I must…”

            It was as if she had been stabbed; she knew the feeling, had experienced it before. The shortness of breath, her insides reduced to splinters, an unbearable weight crushing down upon her…

            “Alistair will not do it. I tried to talk to him, but…he is Alistair, and he has refused. I swear, Leliana that I begged him to, but he would not. And I cannot say no. If I do not do this, then one of the Wardens will die needlessly. If I say no then I might die. I do not want to die, Leliana.”

            He crossed the room in a few strides and sat down slowly on the bed beside her. Without looking at her, he continued.

            “I do not want to die because I do not want to lose you. Perhaps it is one of the most selfish decisions of my life. And I hate that it must be so. However, if you decide that, because of this, what will happen in order for Alistair and I to live, that you do not want me anymore then I will let it be. If you decide that you cannot stand me anymore, that is your decision and I will live with it. The fact remains, that I will _live_.”

            He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair and over his face, in a manner that almost mirrored Alistair’s.

            Then he looked over at her, meeting her gaze and he said, “But…if you decide that you still want me, then I will not refuse you. I will do whatever you ask of me. I love you, Leliana, and I will not let you go unless you want me to.”

            Leliana gulped dryly.

            “Please…say something…”

            “If,” she said weakly, “I still want you?”

            His eyes stared into her soul. “Only if you still want me.”

            At that moment, Leliana had known what she wanted. It was more than just a physical desire to be close to the one man in her lonely life that loved her; it was more than a childish reassurance that he would only ever want _her_ ; it meant more to her than anything that she had previously treasured. What she wanted was something that only Brennan could supply, but it was more than just his body and his affection. They said “I love you,” but Leliana wanted more than love. “I still want you, Brennan Cousland.” Leliana sat up onto her knees, placed his head between her hands and kissed him. “I will _always_ want you,” she whispered at the end of the kiss.

            He was speechless – thank the Maker, Leliana thought – as he pulled her in for another, and another, until she was lying on her back, chest heaving from their endeavors of exploration.

            It was clear what she wanted – needed – from him. Brennan was helpless; he could not refuse her; he had no choice but to oblige. It was difficult to remove their armor while lying down across the bed, but the two rogues managed it. Callahan, noticing that his sleeping space was slowly disintegrating, leapt off and curled up on the floor next to the fireplace. Leliana’s eyes were wide open and she was unable to keep her mind off how this time it was all so very different from the times before.

            He was tender. He caressed her carefully, stroked and petted like she was a fragile doll. His hands, which their first time had been so clumsy and unsure, were now soft, steady and adoring. He teased her breasts and kissed her open-mouthed, moved beautifully as he took her.

            Leliana’s heart drummed in her chest, her pulse quick like the wings of a hummingbird. His body began to shudder, he began to weaken, and she knew the moment was coming. He was about to take himself away from her, but Leliana grasped his firm behind in her hands, wrapped her legs tightly about his waist and forced him to release within her. She had never felt so much pleasure before.

            They held each other, panting and sweating. Finally, after what could have been hours, Brennan raised himself up and stared down into her face.

            “Are you all right?” he asked, voice still shaky from his spent pleasure.

            “I wanted more than to just be with you tonight, Brennan,” she said softly, stroking his face with her fingers.

            “Leliana,” he protested, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

            “I want you for as long as I can have you. I want to be at your side until you can’t ignore the taint anymore and must go to the Deep Roads. I want to stand beside you the moment you walk into the blackness.”

            He looked bewildered. “I-I thought you wanted to go back to Orlais?”

            She nodded and said, “I did, I do, but I want to be with you more than anything.” She sighed and then covered her face with her hands when he did nothing but stare at her. “I…I’m sorry…”

            “Do not apologize,” he told her as he pried her hands away from her face. “If I had known… I would, I will, grant you your every desire, Leliana, and I too want to give to you…”

            Leliana had smiled faintly then. With very few words left between them, they disentangled themselves and redressed. With one last kiss, Brennan bid his farewell and walked out of her chamber, where he would go back up to his room and give Morrigan exactly what she wanted – exactly what Leliana too wanted.      

            Now looking back, the present Leliana saw with clarity how selfish she had been. She had wanted too much from a man who could only give so little.

            She suddenly remembered standing at the gates of Denerim, saying goodbye to her fellow party members, in case they never saw each other again. Zevran had expressed, crudely, his regrets of not being the first to woo her. Wynne encouraged her as she had from the very beginning. And Morrigan dared to look her in the eye as they spoke.

            “You promise that they will live?” Leliana had asked her.

            Morrigan replied with a nod. “Yes, they will live.”

            “Because if they don’t, if they die, I will hunt you down and I will kill you.”

            Morrigan’s golden eyes blazed brightly amidst the flames that scorched the city. “I would expect nothing less,” she whispered. “I might even welcome it.”

            The battle with the Archdemon came. Upon the top of Fort Drakon, Brennan, Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan stood against the foul leader of the demonic horde. Wave after wave of shrieks and hurlocks followed them, all while trying to fight off the Archdemon. Brennan shouted orders to the party, positioning them, strategizing, using their best abilities at the most opportune moments.

            With the aid of the Templars, they struck down every last Darkspawn. Only the Archdemon remained…

            And then it was over. Brennan and Alistair stood before the great beast, grimy and matted in blood, and looked at each other. Was it dead? Was it not?

            A weak snarl reverberated in its elongated neck. Brennan looked at them all, stared at Leliana for a moment with a wordless expression then he turned and dashed towards the fallen Archdemon. He ripped a greatsword from the body of a dead hurlock and roared as he charged at the now-rising Archdemon. It snapped its jaws and struck to the right, but Brennan feinted and slid underneath its neck, lifting the sword and driving a deep slash into the soft scales.

            Blood rained down upon him and the Archdemon screamed. It fell once again weakly to the ground. Its dark, demonic eye stared up at Brennan. With a roar of victory, Brennan grabbed the sword with two hands and plunged it into the dragon’s head, crunching bones, spitting gore, flesh and ichor.

            An amazing thing happened. Brennan was unable to remove the sword. Blinding white light circled the dragon and the Grey Warden. Alistair ran forward, but Morrigan grabbed onto him and pulled him back.

            The light expanded. They could no longer see Brennan.

            Then with a blast of sound, light burst outward in rings from the Archdemon’s dead body. It was a glorious moment, Leliana remembered, as the shockwave rippled through every corner of the world. It struck her and the others backwards, but when she looked up, Brennan stood, alive, sword in hand, staring over the body of the dragon, victorious.

            Everything after that was a blur to Leliana.

            Celebrations. Kisses. Hugs. Victory. Relief. Congratulations. Plans to be made for the future – for Alistair, for Anora, for Ferelden, for Brennan, for posterity. And somewhere among it all, the silent figure of Morrigan crept away, golden eyes shadowed by the cowl of her hood.

            Leliana vaguely remembered Alistair’s coronation and his marriage to Anora. She vaguely remembered Brennan being honored as the Hero of Ferelden, the greatest Grey Warden who ever lived. The arling of Amaranthine was granted to the Wardens, where they would rebuild their order.

            And that was where Leliana met the end of her journey through time.

            Brennan was in the process of packing for his expedition to the northern coast, to Amaranthine. Alistair had asked him to go and to become the Warden-Commander, to make a new start.

            Leliana had not been invited.

            It had been months. Almost a year. Everyone else was gone, off to a different duty now. Leliana had stayed for Brennan.

            But…now what?

            There was a knock on the door.

            She knew who it would be.

            “Come in,” she said.

            In came, as she expected, Brennan.

            He no longer bore the lines on his face that told of a heavy burden. His load was lighter, but not gone. He looked younger, happier. Free.

            “Leliana?” he asked. He walked over to her, but she crossed her arms; she wouldn’t run to him. He had made a promise to her – he would give her what she wanted if she would still want him. She did. Of course she would.

            “What is wrong?”

            “You…are leaving.”

            “I have to, Leliana. Alistair-“

            “Don’t lie to me, Brennan,” she said. “You don’t have to do anything. You’ve done enough for everyone as it is. Maker, how can Alistair expect so much from you? It isn’t fair! You promised you would stay with me!”

            Brennan ran a slow hand over his forehead and then sat down in the chintz. With a sigh, he said, “This is what you are angry at me for?”

            “I am not angry!” she said defensively. She wasn’t angry, but she was certainly cross. Cross and feeling a bit betrayed.

            Brennan let her statement go for a moment then continued. “I have a job now, Leliana. I am the Warden-Commander.”

            “But Brennan, you promised…”

            He looked into her face, eyes dark with building troubles. “I know I promised. I do not intend to break it either. I do not intend to give up or leave you. Perhaps, not take you with me, but that decision is out of my hands. If I could, I would bring you with me.”

            She tapped her foot against the stones of the chamber floor.

            “The fact remains,” she said, “that I’m not going with you.”

            Brennan sighed again. “I am sorry, Leliana. I do not know what more you want me to say.”

            She bit her lip. Quite frankly, she didn’t know either. What did she want from him, other than that he keep his promise? In the end, she realized her behavior was childish. Brennan had kept his promise to her thus far, but the promise was no good if nothing ever came of it. It was a silly, stupid thing to make him promise.

            He had, as she had observed before, only so much of himself to give.

            Was she asking for too much?

            “I will go to Amaranthine,” said Brennan, cutting Leliana off from her thoughts, “and when I return we will be together again. I know you do not like Denerim very much. Unless you want to go to Orlais.”

            _Orlais_ , she thought, and dreaded memories of Marjolaine returned to her. But in between the darkness of those memories, shining in between the cracks, were the years she had spent with Mother Dorothea. She didn’t have to return to her career as a bard. She could do something else, something that would make a difference, bring the Maker’s light to Thedas…

            “I…I don’t know, Brennan. I will have to think about it.” She looked away from him into the fire, and added, “Not that I don’t want to be with you, but that I will be somewhere else. You’re right: I don’t like Denerim.”

            “I leave in the morning,” Brennan said as he rose. “You will have to write to me with your answer.”

            She smiled at him. “I can do that.”

            Brennan walked toward slowly and placed his hands on her hips when they stood toe-to-toe.

            “It is our last night together, for a while,” he said. His hand reached up and absentmindedly brushed through her short red hair. Her body tingled with delight at his touch.

            Leliana stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth to his.

            While the future was uncertain and so many things were unknown to them both, there was one thing Leliana would never doubt: that the Hero of Ferelden was, and forever would be, dear to her heart.


End file.
